Phone call, Sunday afternoon
Springtime, this flower's lost it's bloom
I was not there, and it is not fair
Your innocence and youth
Carried you this far
Just to be removed
And tonight, the stars will shine
And fill my life, you've left me behind
She's walking through the blue and the gold, the new and the old
With the ancient Father, of every daughter
I know that we'll make it through this night
Dreaming, a panoramic view
Canvas memories, bring me back to you
We lived and laughed, we lived so fast
I can't stand to see the truth
Now your masterpiece
It paints the news